


Different

by Odae



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 12:35:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odae/pseuds/Odae
Summary: At night, Katara settled easily into bed, most often opting to lie on her side, facing Aang, so he could reach between them and place his hand above their child, on her abdomen. Where Bumi had once kicked at Aang, this baby almost probed, pushing slowly against his hand and then pulling back.Katara can tell something is different about her second pregnancy, and Aang is a good dad.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar)
Comments: 48
Kudos: 214





	1. Different

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago, and it's pretty long, but I don't.... love it at this point. But I still figure I will put it up here in case people are interested in stuff I've written besides Zukka haha

This baby was different.

Katara was brushing Bumi’s teeth when the thought hit her, watching in the mirror as he struggled against her. He scrunched his face into expressions he knew, from experience, his father could not help laughing at, but that only made his mother smile. “Please, Bumi,” she said in a gently exasperated tone.

So often when she saw her six-year-old son, when he looked back at her with those big, blue eyes full of both adoration and mischief, Katara’s heart swelled, almost as if it were giving a little sob in her chest. She had lost sleep on countless nights for him, fed him from her own body, healed every cut and bruise, and never failed to reach for him when he called. Bumi had made what she thought was already a perfect life so much better, but he did not make it any easier. Almost every day Bumi managed to dart away from his parents, chasing after lemurs on the grounds of the temple, climbing up fruit trees he _knew_ Katara had asked him not to visit without his father, surprising Acolytes and visiting officials alike with random, half-clothed appearances. At bedtime, he could be found bounding up the stairs of the temple on all-fours, crowing like a hog-monkey, and, since getting his own room, was often caught “practicing flying,” diving into pillows tossed on the floor, a blanket tied around his neck in a makeshift cape.

“He might not be an Airbender,” Aang would laugh to Katara after he finally put Bumi to bed again, “but he’s definitely got the spirit.”

Bumi had inherited a boundless energy from Aang that had exhausted Katara since before he was born. And it was this difference between Bumi and the new baby in her belly that struck Katara so suddenly and so completely that she gasped aloud while trying to brush Bumi’s teeth.

Bumi stopped his struggle, and his eyes widened in the mirror. “What’s wrong, Mom?” he asked around his toothbrush.

Katara breathed in quickly and smiled reassuringly at him. “Nothing’s wrong,” she promised, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth. “I’m just thinking.” She wiped the foam off of his face and let her fingertips stay a moment on his cheek.

“About what?”

He looked so much like Aang when he was worried.

“How lucky I am to be your mom,” Katara said sincerely. She handed Bumi his little green cup filled with water.

“Mo-om!” Bumi giggled.

Katara smiled back at him. “Rinse, please,” she prompted, and Bumi, for once, did as she asked. He leaned over the counter to spit into the sink, and then handed Katara back his cup before hopping off of his stool and placing it once again in the corner of the bathroom.

“Is Dad making bao for breakfast? He said he’d make me bao for breakfast.”

Katara looked up from where she was tidying the sink. “I don’t know,” she said, “but he did say something about using up the rice we brought back from Gaoling—”

“No!” Bumi bolted from the bathroom, a blur of thick, spiky hair and orange pajamas. “Dad!”

Katara laughed out loud, now alone in the bathroom. But not completely alone. She retied the knot of her robe above the slight swell of her belly and made her way out to the hallway. By this time in her pregnancy with Bumi, it had looked like she was smuggling a small melon in her shirt. Within a few weeks, she had had to give up the heavy, snug clothes of the Southern Water Tribe and taken to wearing old robes of Aang’s. She’d pulled them on in frustration one morning before joining him and the Acolytes for lunch and had felt his eyes on her throughout the whole meal. She worried at first about how she should have asked, how they might have been sacred or had some rules attached to them, and that she would have to change back into her own tightly bound tunic. But after being picked up and rushed to their bedroom to spend a fair amount of that afternoon in bed, Katara learned just how much Aang appreciated seeing her in his clothing, and the robes became a mainstay for the rest of her pregnancy. They were so much more comfortable, free-flowing and cool, which was a big help especially in the last weeks few weeks before Bumi was born, when the summer heat bared down on the Southern Air Temple and Katara felt like she was carrying a small furnace in her stomach. She had enjoyed the small relief, and the way Aang told her how beautiful she looked in his colors of orange and yellow, and would only laugh and kiss her when she insisted she felt too sweaty and swollen to be beautiful. Still, Katara was glad that, with this baby, she would be wearing her own clothes for a while yet.

In the hallway, Katara relished the quiet of the early morning. Cool mountain air filtered through the open windows, carrying the sounds of birdsong and sky bison grunting for their breakfasts in the stables. The Acolytes would not have their morning meal for another hour, but Bumi, an early riser like Aang, could not wait so long to eat after waking up, so during their stays at the temple, Katara and Aang took to having their breakfast separately with their son. The hours she spent with her little family at the beginning of each day were still somewhat novel for Katara. She never got up as early as Aang did, not since they were kids, but as soon as Bumi had planted himself firmly, and unexpectedly, in her womb, she had slept every day through not only Aang’s morning meditation, but also tea and breakfast, and even, though only a couple of times on visits to the Water Tribe, lessons with her Waterbending students. At first, she was simply too tired to get up, but in the later months, Bumi moved so much in her belly, jostling up her insides, giving swift, sure kicks toward the outside world, that no matter where or how she lied down, she could almost never get a full night’s rest. The exhaustion felt so permanent that it was a relief when Bumi was finally born, and it became one of the many reasons she and Aang agreed to wait a long while before having another baby.

Now this baby moved with her. The quality of the movement was distinct, too, more of a flow through the fluid of her womb. It added to Katara’s energy rather than detracting from it. During lessons with her students, she could feel the way her baby shifted with her, curling into or away from her as she moved her weight through her stances. At night, Katara settled easily into bed, most often opting to lie on her side, facing Aang, so he could reach between them and place his hand above their child, on her abdomen. Where Bumi had once kicked at Aang, this baby almost probed, pushing slowly against his hand and then pulling back.

Aang looked up the first time it happened, startled, with wide eyes. “Is that okay? Are you sure—”

“Yes,” Katara said, taking his hand and placing it gently, once more, on her belly. She found the push and pull reassuring, knowing when she adjusted, the baby adjusted, too, when she settled into bed, the baby settled, too, and when she sat up on nights where the moon shone bright and full in the sky, the baby hung high and ready inside her.

Katara’s right hand reached out to caress Aang’s cheek. He looked up from her stomach to her eyes. She smiled reassuringly and smoothed his furrowed brow with her thumb. “The baby’s strong,” she said. “It’s just different.”

Walking through the halls of the temple, Katara had a theory about what might be the difference between her two pregnancies. She smiled as she mulled it over, her fingertips landing briefly on her abdomen again. She wished, not for the first time, that she could ask her mother about what it was like when she had her babies, what it was like when she had Katara. She wondered whether it felt the same as her baby now, like a promise pooling at the bottom of her belly.

The question now was whether to tell Aang, Katara realized once she reached the kitchen. From her position in the doorway, she could stare at him as he stood at the stove, dressed only in his trousers, holding Bumi up so he could peer into the pot while keeping an arm around Aang’s neck. Bumi scrunched his nose before turning away from the pot to look at his father.

“I still don’t think I’ll like it,” Bumi said.

“Aw, come on, buddy.” Aang gave Bumi a little squeeze. “I swear, it’s Uncle Sokka’s favorite. And it’s really good for Mom and the baby. We want them to be strong and healthy, don’t we?”

“But it doesn’t have any meat,” Bumi said. His eyes narrowed at Aang. “Is it really Uncle Sokka’s favorite?”

Aang spotted Katara leaning in the doorway and grinned at her conspiratorially. “It is,” he said. “Jook is the stuff warriors like Sokka are made of!”

“I’d rather have a fruit pie.”

Aang heard Katara stifle a laugh, but he kept his eyes on his son. “If you really don’t like it, I promise you can have a steamed bun instead. Okay?”

Bumi nodded eagerly. “Okay,” he agreed.

“And could you help me set the table?”

“Yes, Dad,” Bumi agreed again, struggling to get down.

“Thanks, buddy.” Aang set Bumi back down on the floor and watched him race out of the kitchen. Finally, he turned to greet Katara.

“Hey, you look happy,” he said, pulling her toward him for a kiss.

“I am happy,” she replied with a soft smile.

“Well, wait till you see this,” Aang said suddenly. He pulled away from her to leap into the air, reaching for the highest shelf in the kitchen. Katara hadn’t noticed the white box sitting above them. Aang must have hidden it late sometime the night before.

His air scooter dissipated, and Aang landed lightly on his feet in front of her, white box in hand. The insignia of the Southern Water Tribe had been stamped on the box’s lid. “A delivery for Master Katara,” he said. He wore the same wide, expectant grin he’d had since they met.

Katara’s amused expression was replaced with surprise as soon as she opened the box. She gasped. Inside was a pile of bright orange berries, plump and ripe and in perfect condition. “Fox cherries!” she exclaimed. She looked up at Aang. “But how? It’s so early for them.”

Aang looked delighted, clearly pleased with Katara’s reaction. “They’re the first of the season,” he explained. “Let’s just say I put in an early order with a contact of mine at the Southern Water Tribe.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “So you asked Sokka when we were in Ba Sing Se?”

“I might have mentioned them during a break from the Council.” Aang checked on the fire under the stove and stoked it quickly with his bending. “It was all very secret. I had to hide them from that sneaky son of yours.”

“Of mine?” Katara laughed. “If he got being sneaky from anyone, it’s you.”

“Ah, of course, you’re right, Katara. Or should I say,” Aang paused and glanced the room before leaning toward Katara with a grin, “Painted Lady.”

Katara’s mouth dropped open in mock-offense. “That wasn’t being sneaky! That was helping people.”

“Don’t worry, Katara, you know I think you’re a hero for it.” Aang took the box of fox cherries from her. “But you’ve gotta admit, it was _pretty_ sneaky of you.”

Katara crossed her arms and shook her head at him, trying to hold back a grin. “I guess we just have to hope this one comes out honest and not-sneaky, like you,” she said.

Aang stopped stirring the jook to look up at her and smile at the bump of her belly. “Hopefully,” he said brightly, and turned back to the stove.

Katara felt the baby shift within her then. First came the slow push out, and then the corresponding pull back in. She opened her mouth to tell Aang when Bumi came barreling back into the kitchen.

“Dad? I can’t reach the—Mom! Mom, look, Dad made jook,” Bumi said, trying desperately to hide his dismay.

“I saw,” Katara said, pushing back his unruly hair once he came near her. “Dad’s adding fox cherries to it, though, fresh from the South Pole! You like fox cherries, don’t you?”

Bumi visibly brightened and nodded his agreement. He took Katara’s hand in his. “Dad says jook is good for warriors.”

Katara glanced at Aang, who nodded at her eagerly. “It’s true,” she said, smiling and turning back to Bumi. “Your Uncle Sokka started eating it after we traveled the Earth Kingdom, and he grew a whole foot taller. All the best warriors are raised on it.”

“Just in the Earth Kingdom?”

“And in the Fire Nation.”

“Like Zuko?”

Katara once again looked to Aang. He shrugged.

“I actually don’t know what Zuko ate when he was little,” Katara said, squeezing Bumi’s hand, “but I’m sure he would tell you if you asked.”

“What about the Kyoshi Warriors?” Bumi asked eagerly.

“They almost definitely ate their jook,” Katara replied.

Bumi nodded and watched Aang thoughtfully for a moment, still holding Katara’s hand.

“Mom?”

“Yes, Bumi?”

“Dad says jook’s good for you and the baby, too.”

Katara nodded. “He’s right.”

“That it makes the baby strong and healthy.”

“Right again.”

Bumi considered Katara, and then the pot Aang was still stirring with his waterbending. “How?” he asked.

Katara tugged his hand and brought him to stand next to Aang with her. “You watched Dad make this, right?”

Bumi now nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then you saw the ingredients,” Katara continued. “There are only a few of them, and they’re all very simple, but when they come together, they become something with the power to give us strong bones and muscles. And that makes for a healthy baby.” Bumi grinned when she added, “And a strong warrior.”

Aang put out the fire of the stove with a small gust of air. “Do you remember when we were talking about the importance of breathing?” he asked Bumi, handing Katara a bowl of freshly ladled jook.

“Like in firebending,” Bumi said.

“Well, that’s one example, but I mean when you came with me to meditation, and we talked about controlling the breath?”

“Kind of.”

“It’s the same kind of thing. Your breath is power. When you breathe in, it seems like it’s just air, but when you breathe out, the air comes out as your energy.”

Bumi considered this and began to twirl on his feet, still holding Katara’s hand, having stood in place for so long. “And jook is power for the baby?” he finally asked.

“In a way, yes.”

Bumi nodded. Suddenly, he looked up, addressing both of his parents. “Is the baby going to be a bender?”

Aang and Katara immediately looked to each other, the same startled expression reading on both of their faces. Katara briefly opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, or ask Bumi where his question had come from, Aang sat on the floor in front of their son. He crossed his legs and took a deep breath.

“We don’t know, Bumi,” Aang said gently. “We don’t know how this stuff works. There’s a chance the baby could be an Airbender, like me, a non-bender, like you, or even a Waterbender, like your mom.”

Katara knelt down next to Aang when she heard this and put her bowl aside. There was the slow push and pull from the baby again as she looked into Bumi’s wide, blue eyes.

Bumi shifted restlessly from one foot to the other as he processed his father’s words. “Do you _want_ the baby to be a bender?” he now asked.

Katara couldn’t help herself. She pulled Bumi into her and held him tightly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “All we want,” she said slowly, pulling back slightly to see the confused expression on his face, “is for the baby to be like you. Happy and healthy and _good_.” She smiled when she saw he was only more confused. “You have such a good heart, Bumi. Whether or not the baby is a bender, what matters is that they have a good heart, just like you.”

Aang’s eyes were soft as he reached out to embrace Bumi, too. “And whether or not the baby is a bender,” he added, “they’ll be our family. And we’ll love them just as much as we love you.” He tickled Bumi’s belly and grinned when the little boy laughed. “So much.”

Bumi’s expression was now bright, his wide grin showing off the missing tooth he had lost the day before. “And I’ll love her, too,” he said to his parents, almost as though he were making an agreement with them.

Aang paused. “‘Her?’” he asked, suppressing a laugh.

“I told Mom,” Bumi explained, now wriggling free from his parents’ reach, “I only want a baby sister. No brothers.”

Aang turned to Katara, and she nodded once in confirmation.

“Bumi—”

“Can we eat now? I’m starving!” Bumi took the bowl Katara had placed on the floor and once again bolted out of the kitchen.

He sounded so much like Sokka, both Aang and Katara burst out laughing. They were still laughing as Aang helped Katara to her feet, and they began gathering the rest of their breakfast.

“We’re definitely going to have to talk about that, aren’t we?” Aang asked.

“Of course,” Katara replied. She laughed when she heard Aang’s sigh, coming up behind him and circling her arms around his waist. “But we can leave it for later. You have a Fire Lord’s visit to plan, and I’ve got a class to teach today.” She heard Aang murmur in agreement.

“You know, you’re really wonderful with him,” she said quietly.

Aang turned to face her. “Bumi?”

Katara looked up at him with her wide, blue eyes and nodded.

Aang looked down at her with the goofy, completely unselfconscious grin of his. It only got more disarming with time, leaving Katara blushing even now. “It helps that I have you to learn from,” he said.

Katara shook her head. “No, I mean it. Everything you just said came from you.” She rose on her tiptoes to kiss him once, on the cheek. “You’re a really good dad, Aang.”

Aang gathered her up in his arms and held her tightly in response. It was just the two of them alone in the kitchen.

But not completely alone.

Katara wanted to ask him if meant what they had said to Bumi, about the baby being a bender. Really, she wanted to ask if he wanted the baby to be an Airbender. Whether he’d be disappointed if the baby were a Waterbender.

Looking up at him, though, she knew there was no reason to ask. They had talked about it so many times before, and she had heard the sincerity in his voice and the way he looked into Bumi’s eyes, his gray meeting the blue Bumi had inherited from Katara.

The impulse to ask disappeared quicker than it had appeared, along with her impulse to voice her suspicion, her theory about the new baby. They would see. There were months, years, even, to know for sure. That was plenty of time to let go of any expectations, and there were plenty of more important things to worry about in the meantime.

“Dad!” Bumi called from the dining hall. “I tried it!”

Aang pulled back from Katara, keeping his arms around her as he called back, “And?”

“I want my steamed bun, please!”

Aang laughed and let go of Katara. “I tried,” he said ruefully. “Now if I want you to keep calling me a good dad, I’d better feed our firstborn.”

“That might be a good idea,” Katara said.

Aang glanced at her from where he was searching for the steamed buns. “You go ahead, Katara, I’ll be there in a second.”

“All right,” she agreed. She gathered two more bowls of the jook and the box of fox cherries, glancing down at them just as she was about to enter the dining hall. She turned back around. “Aang?”

“Yes, Katara?” She couldn’t see him behind the table in the middle of the kitchen.

“I love you.”

An arrow and two gray eyes popped out from behind the table, softening into the adoring look he only ever gave her. “And I love you.”

“Dad!”

Aang’s eyes widened in alarm. “Just a second, buddy!” He ducked down to resume his search.

Katara finally left the kitchen, bringing the fox cherries to her son, her stomach bouncing with her laughter, and the baby in her belly swimming along the current of new emotion.


	2. Deciding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Chapter 1. Katara and Aang decide to have another baby.

Bumi began adopting his father’s speech patterns a few months after turning five. It started out slowly, with pitch-perfect imitations of Aang when he said “uh-oh,” and exclamations of “monkey feathers!” that Katara couldn’t help laughing at. But on their most recent visit to the Fire Nation to meet Zuko and Mai’s new baby, without any form of encouragement or prompting from Aang, Bumi had hopped out of his father’s arms and run up to Zuko, greeting him with a cheerful, “Flamey-o, Hotman!”

“Did you…train him?” Zuko had asked incredulously while hugging the little boy.

“Not on purpose!” Aang had insisted.

Bumi, who tumbled down stairs Aang skipped over, and pounced after lemurs that ate straight from Aang’s hand, could not be accused of having inherited his father’s natural grace. But as he repeated the things Aang said, sometimes almost word for word, a certain resemblance began to emerge between them that Katara had not noticed before. The little boy’s blue eyes, dark skin, and wild hair drew many comments about his clear Water Tribe heritage, even when he was dressed in his yellow-and-orange playsuits, but she was glad to see that as he was growing up, there could be no denying that he was Aang’s son. 

Whenever Aang requested something from Katara, whether he was interrupting her waterbending or stealing her time while she caught up on correspondence, usually carrying Bumi or bringing him along by the hand, he always began, “Hey, Sweetie, when you get the chance, could you,” and he would ask her to read over his letter to the Earth King, or help find his missing sash, or review a form with him. Now, lately, whenever Bumi called for her attention, he also asked, “Hey, Mom, when you get the chance, could you,” look for his stuffed koala-otter, help him draw a picture to send to his Uncle Sokka, or tell him the story, again, about when Toph met him and couldn’t believe what a strong baby he was. And when he asked this way, with his five-year-old voice and his father’s words, Katara could only kiss his cheek and immediately acquiesce. 

So it took her a moment, sitting in Appa’s saddle and looking through one of their bags to find a comb, to actually register what Bumi had asked. “Wait,” she said, turning to look down at her son, “what did you say?”

Bumi stared back at her, innocently enough, from where he was feeding Momo a peach with his little hands. “I just said, ‘When you get the chance, can you please give me a little sister?’” 

Katara’s eyes widened, still mildly disbelieving. Bumi turned back to Momo, who by now had finished the peach, and was patting Bumi’s lips to request more food. Bumi giggled, and Katara looked beyond the edge of Appa’s saddle, to the top of the bison’s head, where Aang sat. She wanted to call him. She noticed the tension in his shoulders, however, and the intent way in which he steered Appa, and resolutely turned back to address her son. 

“That was a very kind way to ask, Bumi,” Katara began. Her habit of providing positive reinforcement had carried easily into motherhood. “But having a baby—” She stopped when Bumi turned his full attention toward her, his expression one of expectation. She smiled at him sweetly despite the pounding now filling her ears. “Can I ask why you suddenly want a little sister?” she said instead. 

“Izumi has one,” Bumi immediately said. “And I want one, too.”

Katara nodded. “And having a little brother or sister—”

Bumi shook his head. “No brother. I only want a little sister.”

“Okay,” Katara sighed. She glanced once again at Aang and began again. “Giving you a little sister isn’t straight-forward. It takes a lot of time, and even then, we don’t know when it would happen.” She watched Bumi carefully. “Does that make sense?”

Bumi shrugged.

Katara gave a short exhale and considered the problem before her. After having Bumi, she and Aang had agreed to wait until he was older to try having another baby. Now he was older, and they hadn’t discussed trying. She knew she wanted at least another baby, and the last time she had checked, Aang wanted one, too. And seeing Zuko and Mai with their new little girl, on whom her older sister Izumi doted, curled up in Mai’s arms and sleeping so sweetly, had sparked an urgency in the longing Katara had so far only occasionally felt.

“Maybe for now,” she said suddenly, pulling Bumi into her lap, “you can try hoping for a little sister.”

Bumi looked up at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“When I was a little girl,” Katara explained, “I wanted two things: for the Avatar to return, and for your Grandpa Hakoda to come home.” She paused and looked out at the clouds around them. “I didn’t know when or how they would happen, or if they even could happen. So, I just had to hope.”

“And?” Bumi asked expectantly.

Katara looked back down at him. “Well, the Avatar’s sitting right behind us,” she said with a smile, “and your grandfather’s back in the South Pole.” She used one of her hands to brush back his unruly hair. “But they didn’t happen when or how I could have expected them to. Hoping for them gave me the strength to wait until they did happen, in their own time.” She paused. “Does that help?”

She watched Bumi think about it before he nodded eagerly.

“I’ll hope for a little sister, and then I’ll get one,” he said, bursting out of her arms.

“That’s not quite—Bumi, be careful!” Katara rushed to grab him before he ran after Momo over the edge of the saddle. Once he was sitting down again, she could breathe.

“You scared me,” she admonished him, handing him a peach.

Bumi giggled and watched for Momo to notice and fly over to land on his lap, settling into a position from which the lemur could lick the fruit. Katara, satisfied the two would stay where they were for a while, looked over her shoulder at Aang, who had turned around at the sound of the commotion. When she waved at him, he gave a small smile and turned back around to face straight ahead.

“For now, let’s just hope we make it to Ember Island in one piece,” she said, and went searching once more for a comb.

* * *

The decision to go to Ember Island was not necessarily one Aang and Katara had made themselves.

“You look rough,” Mai had said to Aang once he and Katara arrived in her chamber.

Zuko had flushed at his wife’s candor, but Aang had only appeared to laugh it off and greeted her with his usual warmth.

“It’s good to see you, too, Mai.” A little girl launched herself at his legs from behind Mai, and he’d laughed again and bent over to pick her up. “And you, Izumi!”

“Seriously,” Mai said, “you two need a vacation. How long have you been traveling?” She shifted over so Katara could sit next to her on the settee and handed her the new baby.

“Just about a month,” Aang answered, letting Izumi down so she could now throw herself at Bumi. “But it’s been fine. Ba Sing Se’s just never a fun trip.”

Katara and Zuko exchanged looks. Zuko nodded at her. “Was the council that bad, then?” he asked out loud.

Aang shrugged and moved to look over Katara’s shoulder at the baby. “No worse than usual,” he said.

Zuko hummed in agreement, glancing at the corner where Izumi was now showing Bumi some of her toys. He hustled over in a panic when he saw her suddenly pull a familiar, pearl-handled knife from her pocket.

“She’s beautiful,” Katara said of the baby. “Aang, look at how tiny her fingers are.” She beamed at him. “It makes me think of when Bumi was this small.”

“I wanna see!” Bumi cried and bolted over.

Aang managed to sweep the little boy into his arms just in time so he wouldn’t careen into Katara.

“Be careful with the baby, buddy,” he said, smiling at Katara before kneeling to give Bumi a better look at the baby’s face. “This is Izumi’s little sister.”

While he watched Bumi, Katara studied Aang. She had been in all of the council meetings in Ba Sing Se, save one, helping to give updates on the Air Temple reconstruction and stepping in as the Water Tribe representative while discussing trade routes. Then Iroh had invited her to visit a home for older war veterans in the Lower Ring where he was performing a tea ceremony, and asked that she bring Bumi, too, to cheer up the old soldiers. Aang had stayed behind in the stuffy meeting room. When they had all gathered at the teahouse later that day, Aang’s smile was forced, and his contributions to the conversation stilted. Something had happened while Katara was gone, and it had left Aang completely tense and anxious. But when she asked about it, he insisted it was only the general effects of diplomatic talks, and he’d get over it after a night of sleep. That had been three days ago.

“Why don’t you go stay on Ember Island for a while?” Mai asked in her dry tone, watching with a small smile as the baby grabbed Aang’s finger.

“Oh, we couldn’t impose,” Katara insisted.

“It’s not as if we’re going to be there anytime soon,” Mai replied, idly waving at the baby. “The house is empty.”

“It’s true,” Zuko said, now wrangling the knife out of Izumi’s hand. “Ah-hah!”

“Bumi!” she cried out, her empty hand reaching for her friend.

Bumi tore his eyes away from the baby and jumped out of Aang’s arms. “I’m coming!” he hollered, running full speed into Zuko. The three fell to the floor.

“Look, even the kid needs to let off some steam,” Mai said, ignoring her husband’s call for help as the children climbed on top of him. She moved her gaze back to Katara and Aang. “Just go to the beach.”

They gave in quickly after that.

And Mai and Zuko had been right, Aang finally admitted the afternoon after they arrived at the Fire Lord’s home on Ember Island. They did need a vacation.

“Look, even Bumi’s more relaxed,” he said to Katara.

She stopped wringing the water out of her hair to turn and look where he was pointing. Bumi was lying on his back, only halfway out of the water, his face upturned toward the sky. She laughed behind one of her hands.

“I think he might just be exhausted from all that swimming,” she said with a grin. To Bumi, she called, “Need a nap, Bumi?”

“No!” Within a second, Bumi was back on his feet and running along the edge of the water, yelling, “I’m not tired! I’m not tired!” At the sound of his voice, Momo rose from where he was curled up next to Aang and flew after the little boy.

Katara geared herself to go after him, but Aang took her hand in his to stop her.

“If he goes back in the water, I’ll follow,” he said with a small smile, “but he’s fine just on the beach.”

She bit her lip as she glanced back at Bumi, who was now turning and running back in their direction.

“Don’t worry, Katara, I’m watching him, too.”

Katara’s face finally relaxed, and she let Aang pull her down next to him, leaning into him so her head landed on his chest.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go in the water?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you just sit all day on the beach like this.”

"Yeah, weird, huh?” Aang rubbed his eyes.

The two watched Bumi as he traveled up and down the beach, squatting occasionally to examine little sea creatures buried in the sand. He looked back at his parents every once in a while, waving to them almost as if he didn’t want them to forget he was still there.

“I love him,” Aang said quietly to Katara, waving back to Bumi, “so much.”

Katara looked up at him watching their son and felt her throat tighten. “I know.”

Bumi was the only figure on the wide expanse of sand, Momo flying above him in looping circles, entertaining himself now by creating piles of rocks, one on top of the other, and giggling when they fell over. Once one tower toppled, he set to creating another.

Katara closed her eyes. “Aang?”

He hummed in response.

“What if we tried for another baby?”

She felt his sudden inhale and the way he stiffened beneath her.

“Is this about the council?” he asked quietly.

Katara pulled away from him and rose to her feet. “What?” she asked, irritation creeping into her tone.

Aang’s eyes went wide, and he gave her a crooked, awkward smile. “It’s nothing, never mind.”

“No, I ask you to have a baby with me, and you want to talk about the council?” Katara said, the anger now clear in her narrowed eyes. “You’ve been on edge for days, you barely talked to me before we got here, and now this. What is going on?”

Aang winced and went quiet.

Katara crossed her arms and stared at him with a hard look on her face. When she saw him glance at Bumi, though, she looked, too, and saw that their son was looking up at them from further down the beach, his face furrowed in confusion. She turned back to Aang and dropped to her knees, softening her face and her voice.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gently taking his hand in hers.

“No, you’re right.” Aang smiled weakly at her. “I should be the one apologizing.”

Katara shook her head but didn’t say anything at first, just cradling his hand in both of hers.

“Aang,” she said again, still softly, “what happened in Ba Sing Se?”

Aang sighed. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“I think we should.”

Aang nodded and then looked out on the beach, his gray eyes scanning as far as the horizon line.

“When you went with Iroh that day, the council decided to ask me about the Air Nomads,” he finally said.

“And?”

“What they really wanted to know is why we don’t have more kids yet.” He paused. “Because Bumi isn’t an airbender.”

A roar of anger surged through Katara, but she kept herself seated, quiet and waiting for him to go on. A quick glance at Bumi assured her that he wasn’t listening and had instead resumed his search for more rocks.

“What did you tell them?” she asked.

“That it was none of their business!” Aand said loudly. He buried his face in his hands.

Katara waited.

“They just kept going on about you and Bumi, about how ‘viable’ you might be to have more kids, and how Bumi can’t ‘continue the legacy of the Air Nomads,’ whatever that means.” He finally pulled his head back and looked at Katara. Her heart ached at his pained expression. “They called it a ‘responsibility to the world.’ To have airbenders who can ‘restore balance.’” He shook his head. “Why would they put that pressure on a kid?”

The anger, the exhaustion, the sadness on Aang’s face reminded Katara of him at twelve years old, of the day he learned he was the last airbender.

“You’re my family,” he said seriously, “and Bumi is our son. I would _never_ want him to think we had more kids because he wasn’t enough.”

Katara pulled him into her arms. He fell into her gradually, his arms making their way around her waist, and his head tucked into her shoulder. She held him and waited for his breath to even, trailing one of her hands up and down his back, coasting along his tattoo and brushing his scar.

Once he had settled into her, Katara ventured quietly, “I’ve never asked, but I don’t think my parents had me because they thought Sokka wasn’t enough.”

Aang pulled away quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

Katara shook her head with a small smile, keeping her hold on him. “I know,” she said. “I just think…” She trailed off, her hand landing lightly on Aang’s shoulder. She cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t mean to have me so soon after Sokka. I mean,” she laughed lightly, “can you imagine me wanting to get pregnant again when Bumi was four months old?”

She felt Aang chuckle against her skin.

“The way I think about it, it doesn’t matter why my parents had another kid, if there was even a reason. What matters is that when our parents were gone, Sokka and I had each other.” She traced the edge of Aang’s tattoo with her thumb. “Even after we found you,” she said, “I knew that wherever I went or whatever I did, Sokka was the one person who would always be there for me. And that I would do anything for him.” She finally looked Aang in the eyes. “I want that for Bumi, too.”

Aang nodded at her somberly.

“Having another kid doesn’t mean Bumi isn’t enough,” Katara said quietly, “no matter what the council says.” She gave him a small smile. “Because for once,” she said, “this isn’t about the world. It’s about our family.”

They sat silently, listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach and Momo’s chattering to Bumi. There were now two piles of rocks standing in the sand at about half of Bumi’s height.

“We can keep waiting,” Katara finally said, “if that’s what you want.”

Aang pulled away so they were sitting in front of each other. “What do you want?” he asked, searching her face.

Katara laid her hand on his cheek. “I already told you,” she reminded him. “But only if you want it, too.”

He nodded. “Okay,” he said, breaking into a grin.

“Okay, what?” she asked, a smile starting to form on her lips.

“Let’s have another baby,” Aang laughed, rushing forward and knocking Katara onto her back. With his hand tilting her jaw upward, his lips caught hers, and he kissed her soundly, dropping his mouth to her cheek and jaw and down to her neck as she laughed, too.

“Really?” she asked breathlessly, trying to pull herself back up against his shoulders.

“Yes,” Aang murmured in her ear, drawing his arm around her waist and keeping her pinned beneath him.

Katara closed her eyes and clasped her arms around his neck, trying desperately to control her smile as his mouth bumped against her teeth. She hummed as he pulled her bottom lip between both of his, dragging his tongue along her lip, too.

“Bumi’s going to be so happy,” she managed to say against his mouth.

Aang’s eyes opened wide, and he pulled back, bringing her with him and into his lap. “You think so?” he asked, dropping a kiss once more right below the back of her ear.

“I just have a feeling,” she said slyly, thinking of the conversation she’d had with her son just the day before.

Almost as if he knew he had been mentioned, Bumi came running up the beach toward them, Momo now wrapped around his shoulders.

“Dad, look!” he called. Once he had landed next to them on his knees, they could see he carried a rock in his hands, perfectly smooth and round.

“What do you have there, buddy?”

Bumi handed the rock to Aang. He held it while keeping his arms around Katara, examining it from over her shoulder. It fit perfectly in his palm.

“Isn’t it great?” Bumi asked, watching his parents expectantly.

“Beautiful,” Katara said admiringly, reaching out to feel the round edges and smooth finish of the rock for herself.

“You should start a collection,” Aang added, smiling at Bumi. He started to hand Bumi back the rock, but the little boy kept his hands behind his back.

“Actually,” Bumi said, “can you keep it?” 

Aang laughed. “All right,” he agreed, “we can put it in your room later.”

“Or we can do it now,” Katara said, rising from between Aang’s legs. She reached her hand out to help him up. “It’s getting close to dinner time.”

On their way up the wooden stairs leading from the beach to the house, Bumi ran ahead of his parents, chasing after Momo.

“What would you say,” Aang asked, catching Katara’s hand with his, “to an early bedtime tonight?” He raised his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Katara laughed. “You want to start trying already?” she asked, biting her lip to hold back her smile.

Aang shrugged, the corner of his lip turned up in a disarmingly charming, crooked grin. “It can’t hurt to practice, right?”

Katara looped her arm around his waist once they reached the house and pulled herself flush against him. “I can’t argue with that,” she murmured.

Aang began to lean his face toward hers when Bumi rushed over to them.

“Mom, when you get the chance, could we get watermelon juice again?”

“Of course,” Katara said, pulling slightly away from Aang. “We can have dinner a little later. Can you change quickly now so we can make it before the market closes?”

“Yes, Mom!” Bumi pulled his rock from Aang’s hand and dashed off to his room.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Katara said mischievously to Aang, making her way to their own room, “but this might delay our early bedtime.”

“The things we do for our kid,” Aang sighed.

Katara laughed. “And to think we want another,” she replied playfully.

Aang’s eyes darkened as he followed after her into the room. “Do you think we have enough time now to get started on that?” he asked, wrapping his arm once more around her waist.

Katara’s hands traveled up his arms and over his shoulders. “We might have a few minutes to get warmed up,” she purred.

With a flick of his wrist, Aang sent out a small gust of air, and the door shut behind them.


End file.
